Depereo
by Creating Myths
Summary: Depereo- a word meaning either perish, utter ruin, or desperately in love. Three stories combined in one where Snape is a witness, object, and participant in love and it's destruction. This takes place from when he was 8 to somewhere in his early 20's.


Depereo 

a fanfic by Creating Myths

Disclaimer: Harry Potter (c) JK Rowling , additional characters not in the books (c) Creating Myths

Rating: I'm going to be careful and call this PG-13

Warnings: Er, none? 

Author's Notes: this damn fanfic has been bugging me.  Whenever I imagine it in my mind, the characters, setting, etc are all in shades of black and white, like an old celluloid dream.  Here I am attempting to paint a story in monochromatic shades.  Ignore my artistic babble and just read on.

THANKS: So far my thanks go out to Julie, who writes HP fanfiction among other things.  She was awesome as a beta reader of sorts :3 

******

_Depereo__ is a Latin term that means to perish or to be ruined utterly.  It also means to be desperately in love.  The story that you will read is essentially three stories combined.  They will illustrate the destructive power that Love can hold.  In one, Snape is a witness to such a love; in another, Snape is unwillingly at the center of a triangle; and in the last, our favourite professor takes the stage as he is the one in love.  This makes for a very lengthy story as you can imagine.  _

Chapter One: The Boys Next Door: Part One

It was raining again.  From a room in a mass produced box house on a mass produced cement- and metal-lined road, he stared out of the window at the falling rain from the gray heavens.  The sky marked his mood and the streets below were his personality- uninteresting, common, and uncaring.

Somewhere in the house, father was shouting at mother.  Later, mother would be found sobbing in the room she had reserved as a private room for herself, and when he, the "loving" son peeked in to check on her, she would look upon him in scorn and hatred for his appearance and existence.  His father's son.  "You look like that bastard," she would hiss through the tightness in her throat and the tears blurring her vision.  Then, he, the son, would stalk off, feeling the sadness of rejection from the matriarchal presence in his life.  Even later, after the sun had set on this dismal stage of cookiecutter houses and faded black streets, young Severus Snape, eight years old, would dream of greater things- dreams where he could get away from this hellhole apathetically referred to as "home".  

In the streets below, there was a ruckus.  Severus adverted his eyes from the gray sky, looking down at the forms of four boys.  They were older than him by two years, but somehow, they seemed infinitely wiser and definitely more mature.  The leader of the group, Jack, was dribbling a tin can as if it were a Muggle football.  Rob, the second in command, had his arm around Nathan, the quiet reasonable one; they were both laughing and acting chummy, even though both boys currently were in disagreement over various issues.  Wesley, the last boy, walked behind the group with his hands shoved in the tight pockets of his pants and his shoulders hunched over.  Like Nathan, he was also the quiet one, but his silence was out of resentment.  He was the brooding type, who had somehow convinced himself that the group did not really like him or need him; he was vestigial to the three others, a remnant of from the past who just kept hanging on though he had no purpose or meaning to be there.  

Their dramas played out on the street when nobody was looking, save for the small boy standing alone at the window or sitting the dirty cement steps leading up to a broken home that had no financial or emotional value.  Severus knew that despite his perfections and confidence, there was doubt and insecurity that crept up onto Jack.  He knew that despite the deep friendship, there was a dividing wall between Nathan and Rob that would be encountered soon enough.  He also knew that there was something not right about Nathan, something out of place- an undercurrent behind his expressions and words.  As for Wesley, he wore himself on his sleeves.  The others knew of his resentment and uselessness to the group, but they tried to work past it because they were all friends.  Friendship was just a word to describe a common bond, and bonds could be broken.

Laughing, the boys next door rounded the corner, talking about extravagant plans for things to do when they got to the wizarding school, Hogwarts.  Somehow, they seemed to be under the delusion that they would all be in the same house, aiming for the same goals, and doing it all in style.  They expected a sort of unobtainable popularity and worship from other students.  Severus had to sneer at these dreams.  While his own were just about escape and respect, they weren't as fancy and unreal as the dreams that the group as a whole strived for.  There was no reality, only fantasy.  

Somewhere in the house, father's voice became quiet or stopped entirely.  There were heavy footsteps coming Severus' way, which he knew to be father's.  As they approached the door to the room where his son sat staring out the window, they stopped.  Severus turned away from the view from the window.  His father was standing just outside the door, looking at him.  There was an odd expression on the man's face- one which Severus could not identify.  There was contempt and maybe some resentment, but there was something else.  Regret?  Recognition?  Mother's words echoed in the boy's mind.  "You look like that bastard."  The words stung him even in his memory.  Father's son.  He feared that's what he really was.

The man, known simply as Father, turned away.  "I'm going out," he announced to the house.  His father never looked him in the eye whenever he spoke to him anymore.  The boy had to wonder if he was a curse.

Soon, the front door slammed shut.  Returning to his window once more, Severus saw his father walking underneath.  The pale man stopped and looked up, staring for a moment.  Again, their similar dark eyes met.  Severus could think of nothing but identifying that look in his patriarch's eyes.  Contempt.  Resentment.  Recognition.  Regret?  For a man like his father, was such a thing as regret possible?  

His father turned away, perhaps in disgust.  Somehow, Severus didn't care.  He felt nothing but the emptiness that a lonely child felt after they became accustomed to the loneliness.  Somewhere around the corner a girl screamed in anger over a senseless prank.  The prank was followed by the hyena-like laughter of the four boys.  Severus looked back up at the sky.  Oh, how it told his mood.  

******

School would be starting soon.  The older children would be shipped off to Hogwarts, while the younger ones would receive some sort of rudimentary education from wherever their parents deemed suitable a suitable facility or a nonthreatening environment.  Severus did not want to go back to the crude building that substituted for a school for children like him- children of wizarding families in the area.  Magic was not taught at the school run by volunteer witches and wizards, but it was discussed and the basics of their world were taught along with the essentials- reading, writing, arithmetic.  'It all makes me sick,' Severus thought in disgust.

He was ready to go to Hogwarts.  He had the intelligence and the drive to study to be a wizard.  Two years was too long of a wait.  Aside from the higher learning he felt ready for, Hogwarts offered an escape, a chance to be free from a house that was not a home.  The school represented freedom and growth.  It was at this school that he would fulfill his dreams.    

Outside, the boys next door had congregated by the lamp post not far from Severus' abode.  They were talking about Hogwarts as they had been doing all summer.  Jealousy filled Severus' heart, and with green envy in his dark eyes, he watched them from the safety of his house's steps.

"When I get to Hogwarts, I'm going to try out for a Quidditch team," said Jack, the natural sportsman.

"Like you'd be good enough for the teams!" Rob scoffed from his place against the lamp post.  "Hogwarts' got blokes who are twice your size and four times better!"

Jack shrugged.  "Don't care.  I'm going to be on a team my whole time there, even if I'm the guy who takes care of the balls!"

"You're obsessed," Nathan said jokingly.  "I thought that they didn't let first years on the Quidditch teams.  You know, let the first years focus on their studies before they're allowing to take part in dangerous sports."

"Quidditch is not dangerous," Jack objected.  "It just happens to be a little....demanding."

Wesley added his thoughts.  "I heard a guy was in a coma for weeks when he got knocked off his broom and hit his head during a game of Quidditch."

Rob snorted.  "If that's demanding, I'd like to see what's dangerous."

"Point is," Nathan began, "in our first year we're sort of, likesay, establishing where we stand in grades and all.  Quidditch would only distract you from schoolwork."

Jack folded his arms and puffed out his chest.  "So says you.  I would never let Quidditch get in the way of my schoolwork."

This prompted a hearty laugh out of Rob.  Nathan merely chuckled, and Wesley snickered.  Jack's face bore the look of indignance mixed with disappointment.  From the steps, Severus felt a sadistic delight in seeing the lack of serious support the leader's group exhibited.  So the group had individuality in its ranks.  

Jack tossed his shaggy blonde hair arrogantly.  "You all can laugh, mates, but when our house wins the cup and I get great marks, don't be surprised if I say 'I told you so.'"

Rob moved away from the lamp post, taking the proverbial center stage.  "Well, I, for one, am going to be the best damn wizard there, no matter what it takes.  I'll be wowing the teachers with my skills before you know it."  This comment received another snicker from Wesley.  Rob turned a cynical eye to the quiet boy.  "And how 'bout you, then?  Wotcher goals for Hogwarts, Remington?"

The smirk from the snicker left Wesley's face as he straightened his posture and shoved his glasses up his nose.  "I'm going to be the top student in our class," he told the listening audience.  "When finals roll around, you will all be asking me for help."

"Not me!" piped Jack.

Wesley turned his cold blue eyes to the leader.  "How much are you willing to bet?"

Jack's cheerful face dropped to one of injured pride.  "Sorry, mate.  Don't gamble.  But you'll see.  I'll be at the top of the class with you or above you."

There was an odd, tense silence as the two boys stood across from one another, staring the other down with their glares.  From a distance of three meters away, Severus could feel the taut air between the rivals.  Wesley's intelligence and repertoire were a threat to the leader, while Jack's charisma and determination made Wesley's role as the group's brains paler by comparison.  They were one another's challenge.

The silence was broken by Rob's raucous laughter.  "I take comfort in knowing that being top wizard doesn't necessarily mean being top in the class."

"But it's nice to show your greatness in your schoolwork as well," Nathan pointed out.

Wesley turned to address the other quiet boy.  "And what about you?" he asked.  "What're your plans for Hogwarts?"

Nathan shrugged.  "I don't know.  I'll figure it out when I get there."

"I'll tell you what he's going to do!" exclaimed Rob excitedly, bursting out between the two other boys.  "This lad's gonna be my best mate and we're gonna show everybody up with our awesome magic skills!"  He threw an arm around Nathan's shoulder.

Nathan's visage was masked with worry and amusement.  "Um, that may be your plans, but what about me?"

"What about you?  You said yourself that you don't know wotcher gonna do at Hogwarts."

Nathan frowned at his friend.  "I may have no idea what I want to do, but I don't think I would like being the best wizard or the best student in school.  I just want to be me."

Rob removed his arm and shrugged.  "Oh well....whatever floats yer boat, Nate."

*****

The sun rose and the sun set.  Passages of time slowly oozed by in units of days and weeks.  Nothing had changed, and nothing worth noting had happened.  Life was just how it always was on gray streets lined with unimaginative houses.  Severus was now in the school that he most despised.  Home made the boy's life an abnormal, unhealthy living condition; school only made things worse.

At that moment, Severus was sitting in the corner of the school yard all by himself.  Cyrus Smith had finished beating him up and humiliating him in front of the small student population.  The disliked boy managed to run off after the scuffle, hounded by the laughter and insults of his classmates.  He came to the corner because it was private and relatively went unvisited by the other students.  Over knees folded to his chest, young Severus watched the small world of this mockery of a grade school come together.  It was all politics, though Severus wouldn't realize this till later on in life when he had time to properly reflect on his childhood from afar.  There were bonds in the forms of friendship and alliances, but the bonds wouldn't last and for a short while the friendships or alliances would fall apart until they were put back together with carefully spoken apologies or by the need to have support.  Severus hated it; it was something he could never have.

"Severus?" cooed a soft voice.  

The boy looked up.  Above him stood two of the teachers- Ms. Rose and Mr. Canus.  Ms. Rose smiled softly at him, while Mr. Canus stood behind her with no particular expression on his face.  They were the teachers in charge of his class.  Rose taught in the room next door, while Canus had the responsibility for the particular group of children Severus was among.  

"Are you alright?" the female teacher asked gently.

Severus just stared at her, his dark eyes boring into her normal blue ones.  His silence was a better answer than any words he could muster.

Rose tried again.  "Did Cyrus beat you up?"

Severus' reply was more silence.  He turned his head away this time, adverting his eyes, hoping that she would get that message that he wasn't in the mood to discuss this.  If he wanted to talk about what had just happened (which was once in a blue moon), Ms. Rose would be the last person Severus would turn to for any form of sympathy.  She was just too kind and caring, and that made her weak in the eyes of the fallen boy.  He suspected that it was all an act of hers; her sympathy was not genuine.  Women could be strange and deceitful creatures.  This was a truth Severus had come to know from his own mother.

"Do you want to be left alone?" the female teacher asked rather stupidly.  

The boy glared at her from a sideways angle.  She frowned and acknowledged her defeat with a sigh.  The victory hardly tasted sweet nor was it savoring to Severus; all that was there was the anger of the general stupidity of people and the pain from various bruises left on his body.  All he wanted was to be left alone in that pain and anger.  He wanted to brew in the mixture of emotions for a while and think about how much he hated the world he lived in.  

Ms. Rose stood up.  "Well, if you ever need to talk, Severus, I'm always willing to listen, and Mr. Canus is here for you as well." 

She walked away.  Mr. Canus did not follow immediately.  He simply remained in place, staring at the small boy, who stared back.  Mr. Canus always had what Severus thought was a bored look in his eyes, but the way they stared down upon him made Severus reconsider what the man's eyes portrayed.  Pity and sadness- that's what Severus saw, and he hated it even more than Ms. Rose's lying sympathy.  Severus narrowed his eyes and sneered.  The last thing he wanted to needed was pity.  

Mr. Canus was quicker than Ms. Rose.  Soon, all Severus saw was the man's back as he headed to towards the old building that they all called a school.  Not long after, it started to rain.

[/end chapter one]

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